


The End

by bela013



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bela013/pseuds/bela013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once the battles are won, the king goes to his rightful seat. Time stops for no one, not even for the foreigner woman of Asshai, that has now to face the evidences of a life of service towards, her Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

"I trust in the decision of the Lord, that watch over us", every head in the room turned to her, and for the first time, her holy love was taken with hooded surprise.

Lines ran through her face, covering her left eye, the same that now had a milky cloud over red. If her eyes, once shone like the flames from her pyre, they were now, nothing more than burning coals, where the red had to fight with the clashing color, of the circles that adorned her white flesh. When Stannis gazed into her new blind eye, he could only see a woman who has fought her battles, and he could respect her for that, even if that was the only thing in her for him to respect. When Davos stared at her scars, old and new, he could only see a woman who should have died a long time ago, if only to spare her pain.

"Was your ruby, also the supply of your good sense?" Melisandre could smile at whichever comment that Davos could throw her way, even now, that the long scar that traveled from ear to chin, twisted the bow like shape of her mouth.

"Don't be bitter, Ser Davos, it does not suit you" as she sat at her designed chair, Melisandre was the picture of a raggedy queen, making Stannis wonder if all those Targaryens, crazed and covered in scabs, could look as imposing as she did, when on the Iron Throne.

"No, it does not" Davos looked rightfully offended at that, it was not everyday that Stannis sided with Melisandre and not him, on smaller matters. "But one must ask, if your truly meant what you said."

"One certainly could, your grace, but one would have no reason to ask such question." Not once, since she presented them, with the news of her failed magic, have she expressed pain or regret over her looks. "My God is not the one to blame for my body"

Along the years, since before she even ventured out of her motherland, Melisandre has proven herself hard to kill. Common robbers would slash her face, pirates would whip her back, fellow priests would plan her demise. She rose about it all. Knives and daggers, fire and cold. Whatever that she kept in her ruby was gone, as all those things could harm her once more.

"It's only thanks to the Lord that I've kept on for so long" She wanted no pity, no help, no guards, her duty towards the light was done, she would meet her hour if it was to come. All she wanted was to be recognized under those marks.

"No matter, woman. Even if your round face, is nothing but a cutting board now, your duty towards your king is still in place." without much of a glance, Stannis walks out of the room, with her once ruby, clutched in his hand.

Left behind, Davos try to find glimpses of the woman behind the witch, now that her red mask has finally gone. to him, there was only a smile, waiting for which ever he was to trow at her.

"Do you wish to escort me to the kitchens, Ser Davos? I fear that I haven't had a proper meal in years." her movements are quick, rising from the chair and being by his side in a blink, showing him that even as a normal woman, she was far from normal.

With her eyes, even the blind one, fixated on him, he had little choice, but to offer her an arm, and guide her to the hot furnaces of the Red Keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, I am tackling down, the endless list of fics that I plan to write. This idea is more than an year long, actually.


End file.
